


Bits and Pieces: Tumblr Fics

by TriDom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Long Drabbles, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sr Stargent, Stargent, Stetopher - Freeform, petopher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDom/pseuds/TriDom
Summary: A compalation of one shot/drabble style fics from my Tumblr. All are Teen Wolf theme. Most are Petopher, Stargent, Stetopher, or Sr Stargent (Chris x John).





	1. Sr Stargent - H.A.M. the Dog

**Author's Note:**

> With all the things Tumblr changes, I don't really trust them to keep my drabble style fics up, so I'm going to slowly be posting them all in here. They're longer than most drabbles, so idk what to call them. If you guys particularly like one, feel free to comment on that chapter. All of these are ideas that I've written out on Tumblr so I could stop obsessing with the idea.

After 23 years in the Marines, five tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, Chris has nothing to show for it, except for PTSD, a mild pain pill addiction for the constant pains in his body, and a taste for alcohol he didn’t have quite so strong before his world and career plans were blown apart by an IED. 

His little consolation was being told he would be allowed to adopt his canine partner of four years, Atlas, when he returned to the States after they were both medically retired and released. 

But after months of healing from a broken spine, he can’t get a straight answer on where Atlas is. By the time the pain has cleared enough for him to focus all of his efforts on finding him, he’s finally told that his partner was adopted out to a civilian. 

Chris pulls every favor he’s earned in his 23 years and makes it his mission to find Atlas. He expects to find him with a suburban family of 2.5 kids, a minivan, and too many flags in their yard. They would be the kind of people who would thank him for his service over and over again even when he tries to shake it off. They would’ve had a Golden Retriever before. Something mild and easy. They wouldn’t know what to do with an animal like Atlas. They wouldn’t know what to do when he shakes during thunderstorms or fireworks. They won’t know they just have to lay beside him and wait it out, because the explosions always end, even when it feels like they won’t. 

The last thing he expects is to find Atlas with a former Marine and veteran of Desert Storm. He doesn’t expect to find him with the sheriff of a small town, a widower with one son, grown and out of the house. He doesn’t expect to find him with a man who takes Atlas to work every day and has learned to move around the dog, because the dog is always stuck to him like glue. It’s a skill and this man has learned it.

He didn’t expect John Stilinski to give him Atlas back without hesitation, even though it obviously hurts him. 

When he calls John a few days later and tells him he’d like them to stay in touch, for Atlas (or Ham as John calls him), he doesn’t expect it to last more than a few times, but it turns into weeks, then months. First at the park where they play fetch and “find the bomb”, then lunch at the station with Atlas sleeping in the large bed beside John’s desk, dinner at John’s house where Atlas sleeps on the couch like he belongs there, dinner at Chris’s (when he rents one for the first time since coming home). They have late night drinks on John’s back porch with the dog asleep between them and Chris can hear night insects that sound like the ones he grew up around. The bugs hadn’t sounded the same overseas. 

He doesn’t expect to get used to the sound of John’s chair creaking on the porch, or the sound of him talking to his son on the phone in the evening while they’re watching a baseball game, because John can’t stand the news either. He doesn’t expect to get used to the sound of his voice and his laugh in a way he hasn’t been aware of anyone’s in decades. He sees why the dog liked life with John. He’s an easy constant. Joking is his natural response to stress. Silence is a learned one. After a hard day at work, he’s quiet and he stares a lot. Chris lets him and eventually asks if he wants to get take out. He eases John open like a tin can, careful of jagged edges. 

John is even more careful of Chris’s shrapnel-edged barriers. When Chris won’t be pulled out of a mood, John leaves it alone. They can sit in silence. Even a heavy silence and Chris doesn’t feel like he has to talk. Like it’s expected. 

It’s what makes it come out. The things that wake him up at night in a cold sweat, reaching for Atlas and squeezing the dog, like only Atlas would put up with him doing. John listens. He doesn’t try to make it better. There is no way to make it better. 

He doesn’t expect John to be as lonely as he is, to be as attached to this as he is. 

He wishes he could say that he saw all of it and expected to fall in love with him, but he didn’t. It hit him from a blindspot and slammed him in the chest as he realized that this thing they’ve constructed over months is fragile. He’ll keep John as a friend before he loses him by trying to make it anything else. 

He doesn’t expect John to pull him close one night as he’s about to leave. An ordinary night of only a beer apiece, a night that happens three or four times a week. He doesn’t expect John’s touch to be so careful, but then again, he wouldn’t have expected it to be anything else, careful, then firm when Chris doesn’t pull his arm away. He expects John to pull him against his chest and the kiss that starts soft, then gets deeper, and snaps to hungry in a heartbeat. 

He expects to wake up in John’s bed the next morning, but doesn’t expect to enjoy the feeling of his arm laying heavily over his middle. He would have never believed when he would fall asleep with Atlas huddled against him in the coldness of the desert that he would one day be holding his dog in the same way, in a warm bed, with a good man against his back.


	2. Stetopher - Pretty Woman AU

And now Pretty Woman. If I wasn’t up to my fucking eyes in WIPs a stetopher would happen, because OMG hooker!Stiles being picked up by Chris and Peter? 

First, Chris would stop Peter from even touching Stiles when he shows up at their door, because there is no way this kid is 18. Even though he’s a fucking doll with those little moles on his cheeks and neck. While he’s flipping through the kid’s wallet, because he pretty much threw it at him when Chris asked for his ID, Peter is still talking to the kid, being skeevy. It’s like he can’t help himself. He’s so good at it. 

He is over 18, as a matter of fact, he’s 21. Which is good, because when he finds Peter in the living room with the boy, he already has drinks mixed. 

Stiles would probably be wearing eyeliner, because it makes his big brown eyes look bigger and a surprising amount of guys are into, because it makes him look weirdly innocent and slutty at the same time. 

And Stiles would be kind of dumbstruck, because this is not what the guys who pick him up usually look like. They’re seriously fucking ridiculous. Guys who look like them don’t have to pay for sex. 

But they are paying for it, and the younger looking one, Peter, has somehow charmed his pants, and everything else off in no time. It almost feels like it was his idea all along to be completely naked while he’s on Peter’s lap and Peter’s husband is just kind of watching by the fireplace, drinking scotch or brandy, looking classy af and Stiles is glad the room is dark because it makes him kind of red. 

He drinks three of whatever Peter mixed. It makes it more fun, makes him more relaxed, and think less. 

Even at the end, Peter’s husband, Chris, is never undressed. Peter did right before he started fucking Stiles, but Chris just unzipped to get his dick out so Stiles could blow him. 

 

Alcohol makes Stiles crash. So he isn’t surprised when he wakes up passed out in their bed, which is fucking huge. He is a little surprised that only Peter is in it and Peter is wrapped around him like a squid. 

He peels himself out of the stupidly soft sheets and gets on his clothes before slipping down the hall, putting the money they paid him in his pocket. He stops at the kitchen, where Chris is at a little table, breakfast in front of him, reading a paper in a pair of striped sleep pants and a t-shirt. 

When Chris asks, Stiles eats with him, takes a few sausage links and eats with his hands. When he goes to stand up, Chris reaches towards him, giving him time to pull away before he rubbed under his eye. There’s a little smear of black on the pad of his thumb and Stiles is kind of warm. 

 

Stiles doesn’t fuck anyone else after that night. It isn’t like he fell in love with them or anything so dumb as that, but he gets the feeling that Peter is a jealous son of a bitch. It starts to be an every two week ordeal, which is good, because that’s a lot of fucking money, and he would rather not fuck everyone in the world if he doesn’t have to. And he’s rather keep fucking hot guys, safe guys, in a safe house, where he doesn’t feel like he might be stabbed or step on a dirty needle. 

Then it’s once a week, and they’re still giving him money, but other shit too, like Peter comes and gets him one day just to go shopping. He won’t let Stiles pay for anything, which is dumb, because Stiles actually has money now, even after starting to put down some cash on his dad’s medical bills and his student loans. 

Sometimes after they screw around, he’ll put on sleep clothes and go downstairs to play video games with Peter. Sometimes they can rope Chris into it, but most of the time he just reads on the couch and watches them. 

When he runs into Chris downtown one day while he’s with his dad, he kind of expects Chris to blow him off, but he doesn’t. He comes over and says hi and when Stiles pushes out a chair at their table at the burger joint, Chris sits down and talks with his dad, they hit it off, and Stiles can’t really stop smiling to himself about how much he likes it. 

 

When it ends, it’s almost like a business decision. Chris makes dinner and they eat at the bar before Stiles can feel the air in the room change, their both looking him, then each other. He starts to feel a little sick before Chris stands across from him and Peter is sitting at his elbow. 

They ask about his debt, that Stiles has never said one fucking word to them about. He tells them and it kind of feels better and worse. He’s glad they know he wasn’t fucking around just for the fun of it, but at the same time, it’s embarrassing. In their sedate chef’s kitchen that cost more than everything he owned, it was kind of humiliating. 

When he says the numbers, they don’t even flinch. They look at each other, and Peter nods at Chris. Peter offers to pay all of it, if Stiles will let him, if he pays all of it, then they can be on equal footing, no more sex for money, not more anxiety about gas money or when Chris and Peter are going to stop wanting him. He won’t have to worry about speaking his mind or getting mad at him, because his pay check won’t come from them. Instead, they can be equals, lovers, partners. 

He can finish his degree. He can start doing something respectable. 

A part of him doesn’t want to say yes, but a bigger part does. He doesn’t want to do this his entire life. He doesn’t want to ever sleep with anyone other than them. He’s so fucked in love with them. 

When he nods, Peter stands up and wraps his arms around him then he feels Chris kissed the back of his neck before he rubs his shoulders. 

AND THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER! *Confetti in heart shapes*


	3. Sr Stargent - Promises Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Infidelity, Family Issues, Stargent, and Sr. Stargent
> 
> This is a two part story. The next part is the following chapter.

If you thought about it objectively, it wasn’t the most awful thing in the world that Chris fell in love with his husband’s father. 

When he met Stiles, Stiles had just graduated college. Chris was never attracted to younger men as more than a fling, but Stiles was something, intelligent, a smart mouth, insightful, sarcastic, but caring. He talked about his dad often, even when they’d only first started dating. He was a sheriff in a town a state away. He was a widower. He was a hard worker, maybe a workaholic, but Chris never said it. He was handsome. Stiles showed him pictures occasionally and while they didn’t look anything alike, he was sure Stiles would end up with the timeless attractiveness of his father. 

He met John Stilinski twice before he married his son. Once was for a few hours when John came in to visit Stiles and they all went to dinner. He had a firm handshake and looked Chris over carefully, wondering what a man his age was doing with his kid. Chris didn’t blame him. He thought the same thing often, but he loved him. He’d take care of him, he told John the same thing when Stiles got up to use the bathroom during dinner. 

John said if Chris hurt him… he didn’t finish the thought, he’d just held Chris’s eye contact for a few long seconds before he shook his head, “Just don’t.” 

Chris said he wouldn’t. 

He asked Stiles to marry him a month later. Stiles said yes without any hesitation.

The second time they met was the week before he and Stiles got married. Stiles wanted to get married in Beacon Hills, his hometown, Chris didn’t care. He had no attachments like that in his life. If Stiles had a preference then that’s what they’d do. 

They stayed with John for the week. Stiles took Chris to meet his friends. He liked them, but they were so young. Stiles was young. Seeing him around his friends drove it home harder. 

When they got back to the Stilinski house, it was a breath of relief to see someone closer to his age, older even. The sheriff knew who John Wayne was and not as some hipster cling to phrase. He’d listened to Johnny Cash and not as some way to seem cooler and wiser. He had a career. He was stable. 

Chris should’ve called off the wedding then. 

But he didn’t. He did love Stiles. He just wasn’t crazy about his high school friends. That was fine. 

 

That night after Stiles’s best friend, Scott, came to pick him up again for something or another, Chris sat with John in the living room after begging off going. 

John had laughed slightly as soon as the door closed and offered Chris a beer. 

“They’re something, aren’t they?” 

“They are,” Chris had said. 

“They’ll drive you crazy.” 

“I could see that.” 

John had smiled and drank his own beer. They’d watched CNN, which Stiles wouldn’t watch, because it stressed him out. They discusses politics. They were surprisingly similar. He could see how Stiles came from the man in front of him. Their minds worked the same, except John’s was aged and Stiles was still young and full of energy. Enough to take down a house. Maybe enough to take down a man 18 years older. 

 

When they got married, John passed Stiles off to Chris. They did it because he was younger. Because John wanted to. Stiles was beautiful in a black tux that was tailored to fit every line of his lean body. Chris’s cold feet from the night before eased. He was the luckiest man in the world. For whatever fucked up, God only knew reason, Stiles wanted to marry him. 

And he was getting a father in law out of the deal that he was almost positive he was going to be close with. Not many people could say the same thing. 

 

When Stiles wanted to move back home to Beacon Hills the next year, Chris said okay. The houses were cheaper. It was quieter. His business was mostly done online or out of state anyway. If it’s what Stiles wanted, then that was fine. It would be a nice change of pace anyway. 

They visited a few times to look at houses. They stayed with John. Chris made a few efforts to go out with Stiles and Scott, but he wasn’t crazy about it and he figured they’d like time to themselves. It benefited them both when he just stayed at John’s. 

They went fishing three times in a week. John came home the times he was scheduled to instead of working three or four hours over. The times that Stiles went with Scott instead, John just shrugged and asked if Chris still wanted to go. 

The pond was peaceful and stocked well on the property of some high school friend of John’s. They parked on the side of the man’s driveway, didn’t have to say hi or anything, they crossed a barbed wire fence and fished from noon until dusk. They didn’t talk a lot. In a life full of Stiles, it was a reprieve. 

Not that he didn’t miss Stiles. 

When they all got back to the house, Stiles’s energy was like a tidal wave. He loved it. He could see the same feeling in John’s face. He didn’t not love Stiles, sometimes he just needed a breather and that was okay. 

 

When they moved back to Beacon Hills, it was to a house a half-mile from John’s. They had dinner together a lot, at their house or John’s. They had Stiles’s friends over a lot. Sometimes when they were going to have a get together, Chris went to John’s. John gave him a key and told him to use it whenever he wanted. Most nights that he took him up on the offer, Chris cooked dinner. If John was home, he normally sat at the dinning room table and talked to him while he did it. 

Chris couldn’t say when he’d really started to want him. Maybe he always had a little bit, maybe he just hadn’t noticed it when he was captivated by Stiles’s shiny newness, his youth and his energy. 

John’s attractiveness was worn in, quieter. When Chris realized he wanted him, they were eating dinner on a night that Stiles was playing video games with his friends. 

John had taken off his jacket. His work shirt was unbuttoned enough to show the white t-shirt beneath, and rolled up to his elbows to show the dark coarse hair on his arms. Chris looked at him a few times and kept eating. He needed to get laid. That’s all it was. 

When he got home that night, he fucked Stiles until he was exhausted. He panted after as Stiles crawled half on top of him. He didn’t even think of John as he breathed in the scent of Stiles’s hair and the alcohol he and his friends had been drinking. 

 

For awhile, he thought that when he found John attractive, that was the cue to fuck Stiles. So they had sex a lot. Stiles loved it. Chris did too. He kept John as his friend and got to fuck his husband more, there was no downside. 

 

He realized he was lying to himself when he was sitting with John on New Years, six months after they’d moved there. They were watching the ball drop and Stiles was with his friends at some party that sounded exhausting. He had a light buzz going. 

He and John were sitting on the same couch, because they’d been eating the same food off the coffee table. It made sense. 

John said the last person he’d kissed on New Years was Claudia. 

She died 13 years before. 

As the ball started to drop and the count down, 3, 2, 1. 

Chris was about to move to just peck John on the lips when John leaned into him. He got him on the corner of his mouth, but Chris turn into it. It was warm and dry, just the touch of their lips. The kind of kiss he never would’ve hesitated to give one of his friends. 

When he pulled away John laughed. 

“Sorry. The beer got me.” 

“I’ve been kissed by worse for less,” Chris said, laughing himself and hoping he could write off the red growing in his cheeks to the intoxication. 

“This year’s going to be different. I thought I should start it differently,” John said he looked embarrassed. 

Chris nudged his thigh with his own. “Kiss between friends. Don’t worry about it.” 

John looked at him and Chris stared at his eyes that he’d resigned himself to thinking were beautiful. They just were. Blue, almost green, sometimes they evened looked hazel. 

“With Stiles and you in town, this year is going to be different. I’m going to make sure it’s different.” 

“Good,” Chris said. 

John stared at him for a few seconds longer and Chris felt his throat drying. If he were anyone else in the world, married or not, Chris would’ve been on his lap. Instead he held John’s stare like he had at the restaurant, the very first time he met him and felt his heart pounding in his chest. 

He wouldn’t hurt Stiles. 

He promised John he wouldn’t. 

It was a promise he meant to keep.


	4. Sr Stargent - Promises Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapter. I intended to leave the story how it was, but someone reblogged it with a continuation that didn't quite fit how I saw Stiles and John's relationship or Chris and Stiles's relationship, so I continued the story to an end that made sense to me.

This is a unique take on the story, but really I couldn’t see John and Chris hurting Stiles that way. I wanted to leave the ending with pinning, but I just can’t quite see John being willing to hurt his boy for someone, even someone that he has really come to have strong feelings for. 

I think John would stuff his feelings down for Chris for a long time. He realizes a lot sooner than Chris realizes, that he finds him attractive. He thinks Chris is striking from the time he meets him, but he’s ready to think of him as a shallow, vapid man who is willing to date a man 18 years older than him even when he and Stiles can’t have much in common. 

But then he gets to know Chris and he realizes that isn’t the case at all. Chris is intelligent and steady. He’s there for Stiles when he needs him. He works on his car for him, he teaches him how to do things to the old Jeep himself, he even does Stiles’s fucking taxes. With Stiles living away from Beacon Hills, John begrudgingly starts to be thankful that Stiles has Chris. 

When Chris and Stiles moves home, he sees the glazed over expression that Chris gets when Stiles hangs out with his friends. He doesn’t blame him. The kids are a handful and it’s not something Chris has had to deal with in his and Stiles’s year and a half relationship. They talk about things that John couldn’t give less of a shit about and he’s sure it’s the same for Chris, but he sees Chris make the effort. He tries to be involved. He just gets lost. John has felt the same way may times when talking with Stiles and his friends. 

He starts spending more time with Chris and he sees it as a bad sign, because Stiles is spending a lot of time with his friends. At first it’s fine. Stiles just got home, of course he wants to catch up with his friends, but then it continues to happen. Chris is at his house a lot and he enjoys it, he couldn’t ask for a better son in law, a better friend. He recognizes by the end of the third month that Chris is probably one of the best friends he’s ever had. 

But Stiles is starting to neglect his marriage. John mentions it, once. Stiles says he isn’t and he stays home for a few weeks, then gradually, the going out with his friends comes back in and John knows that’s not good for a young marriage, but he can’t control his son. He never really could. 

And it isn’t like he doesn’t enjoy having Chris around. He missed him when Stiles spent two weeks at home and he rarely saw him. 

 

He doesn’t know why he kisses Chris on New Years. He’s a handsome man, smart, and fun. He loves him to death, but if put under oath he’d swear it was familial. He just wanted to start the year different. His life has been so covered in fog and haze since Stiles left. Since he’d been back, and brought Chris with him, he actually has a reason to come home from the station on time. He sees the point in getting out of bed before eleven on his days off. He enjoys fishing again. 

 

Still four months after the New Year, he isn’t surprised when Stiles shows up at his door and says he thinks he wants to divorce Chris. Stiles chews the quick of his thumb the entire time. John thinks there must be someone else. He asks and Stiles denies it, but his cheeks get pink. When he calls him on it, Stiles says maybe there could be soemone, but they haven’t done anything. He loves Chris way too much to do that to him. He says he doesn’t want to hurt Chris, but they just don’t match. The age gap is too much. He’s bored. 

He cries and John comforts him. He understands, but he thinks Stiles is being stupid. Chris is an amazing man. He’s not going to find a more dependable and loving husband. It won’t happen, but Stiles is young and he has to make his mistakes. 

 

Chris shows up on his doorstep three days later well in the bag with half a case of beer with him. John helps him drink the rest and puts his arm around Chris on the couch when he finally starts to cry after being glassy eyed all night. When he squeezes him, Chris leans into his side for a long time. 

Under his buzz, John loves how heavy and warm he is against him. Chris is unfairly handsome for a man his age. He sees how he got Stiles. He’s beautiful. Stiles is being ridiculous. He hopes the other man is half as good. 

 

They keep hanging out. Stiles tells him its fine the one time John brings it up. 

“You’re his only friend here. I get it,” Stiles says. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t upset you.” 

Stiles shrugs, “I asked for the divorce.” 

 

It only takes a few months for the divorce to be final. Stiles is dating another man in town. He’s tried to keep it from John, but he’s the sheriff and he knows things. He hopes Chris doesn’t. Although Chris has seemed okay since the first breakdown. They spend a lot of time together and Chris seems to accept his lot. 

John’s just glad that he didn’t have to kick Chris out of his life because Stiles decided he wanted out of the marriage. 

 

Chris comes over when the divorce papers are signed. It’s late. He’s already been drinking. John can smell it on his breath as he lets him in the house. They barely get into the house before Chris is shoved him against the hallway wall and kissing him hard. 

John thinks about shoving him away, but his mind doesn’t work as fast as his mouth or his hands. He grabs Chris by his shoulders and kisses him back like he’s drowning and Chris is air. 

For a split second he wonders when he started wanting him. And it’s drowned under his own internal laughing. He’s always wanted him. He just tried to get rid of it. It never worked. 

Best friend his ass. 

He loved him. Over the course of nearly a year he’d fallen in love with him so hard his chest hurt. His heart beat harder when he heard him come in the door, when he came home and Chris was in this kitchen making dinner, when they went fishing and he stared at him stringing his line and saw the sunlight catch in his pale blue eyes. 

 

An hour later, John laid in bed with Chris’s legs touching his own. Chris leaned up in bed, rubbing his face and John could hear the stubble against his hands. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not,” John said, his fingertips touching Chris’s back barely, “But it can’t happen again.” 

“I know.” 

John leaned up to brush his cheek against Chris’s shoulder. He smelled good. He didn’t know when he’d started actually recognizing Chris’s scent. 

 

They still hangout. They can’t not. If they can’t be together how they want then they can be friends and one day it’ll go away. John is sure of it. One day, he’ll just be best friends with Chris. 

It works decently for awhile. They kiss a handful of times, but they don’t have sex again. He wants to. Chris wants to. But they don’t. 

Stiles starts to openly date Peter Hale three months after the divorce is final. They come close to having sex the night that Chris sees them at the grocery store. His feelings are hurt. He won’t admit it, but they are. Stiles didn’t want someone younger, he just didn’t want Chris. 

John doesn’t have sex with him again, but he hugs him for a long time. He’s pissed that Stiles couldn’t be a little more subtle. But he doesn’t say anything. It’s Stiles life. He can’t control him and he shouldn’t try. 

 

Almost a year after the divorce, Chris shows up at his house like normal. John actually sees him more than he sees Stiles since Stiles moved in with Peter after less than six months together. 

Chris says he can’t stand it. 

He’s tried to stop wanting him and it isn’t working. He loves him and he wants to be with him. Stiles is happy. Stiles is with someone else. He gets it. John is Stiles’s dad. It makes it complicated, but Chris just… he loves him. 

When he tells him, his eyes are wet and John feels like his chest is being crushed. 

The love hasn’t gone away. He’d hoped it wouldn’t, but it hasn’t. 

They don’t have sex, but Chris sleeps in his bed that night and John loves the feeling of it. 

John doesn’t sleep much, but he decides he has to ask. He hates the thought of hurting his kid, but his chest feels like it’s being crushed. If there’s a chance, he has to ask. 

If there’s a chance that he can have Chris has his own… he can’t pass that up.


End file.
